


Turn Loose the Mermaids

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: McHanzo [24]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Blood and Injury, Fights, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merman! Hanzo, Merpeople, Minor Character Death, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 05:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16510472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: McCree had heard the stories, the whispers of creatures that lived under the sea. Creatures that lured sailors and ships to their death, and he had never believed them, until now...





	Turn Loose the Mermaids

‘The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.’ – Jacques Yves Cousteau

****

_Beware of the world beyond the surface. The land beyond the waves, but most of all beware of the humans._

_It was a lesson that had been drilled into Hanzo, just as it was too all merchildren, from the moment he had been old enough to venture out into the waters beyond the village. Words that he now knew as well as he knew his own name. Words that he had repeated far too many times as he tried to drill the lesson into his brother’s head in turn, a seemingly impossible task, as Genji seemed determined to venture closer and closer to the human world, to the ships that sailed their waters and the men that crewed them. They weren’t empty words either, there were plenty of cautionary tales to accompany them, stories of what could happen to a merperson if they were caught by a human, stories based on real life. And quieter, barely acknowledged where the whispers, rarely spoken in their hearing, but reaching his ears all the same. Whispers about what had happened to their mother a few years after Genji had come into the world._

_The warnings were there, the knowledge imprinted into his memory, and yet here he was…_

_Hanzo swished his tail with what strength he could gather, feeling it collide with the strange, barely visible material that was keeping him and the shallow stagnant water he was in contained, feeling the walls shudder but not break as he had hoped they would. Disheartened, exhausted, he sank as far as he could into the water, baulking at the foul taste, and already missing the depths of the ocean as it didn’t take long for him to reach the bottom, curling in on himself with a wince. He had been trying to escape for the last few hours, ever since he had been unceremoniously dumped in this strange prison, but his strength was waning now as his wounds got the better of him, the water around him taking on a worrying pinkish tinge._

_Blood._

_His blood. He knew exactly what it was, but he closed his eyes to avoid the sight, trying to hide from the reality of the situation, but it wasn’t enough to silence his thoughts. Was he going to die here? The humans hadn’t killed him yet even though they’d had plenty of opportunities to, but nor had they been gentle with him, his skin and scales marked from where he had fought to protect Genji and where they had struggled to catch him, several hooks still caught in his scales, shifting with the tiniest movement and sending lightning bolts of pain through his tail. His arms were marred too, bruised from where human hands had grabbed him for the first time in his life fingers biting into flesh when he had been hauled onboard the ship with no consideration for the fact that he was a person, that they were stealing his freedom, snatching him from his home and family._

_A pet._

_A prize._

_A prisoner._

_His tail flicked again as his agitation got the better of him, and he opened his eyes to study his prison once more, as though hoping that an escape would magically appear. Instead he was hit with a wave of despair as he realised that the movement had barely been strong enough to stir the water this time, whilst the pinkish tinge in the water was increasing with each movement, each breath, and when he shifted uneasily at the realisation he saw more blood drifting in the water above his tail and he swallowed thickly._

_This was bad._

_He thought about his family who would be waiting for him at home, thinking about the small sea-dragons waiting for him to return with food, and he thought of his brother…Genji. Remembering the wide, frightened eyes that had met his gaze as he had been hauled out of the water, of the hand that stretched out towards him before he had been dragged onto the ship. The last thing he had seen was his brother fleeing, the flash of iridescent green as Genji had dived beneath the waves, escaping as Hanzo had pleaded with him, the only thing stopping him from coming apart completely._

_Genji was safe…_

****

    Jesse McCree, captain of _The Deadeye,_ sucked in a deep breath, savouring the salt in the air as he stepped onto the deck, sparing a brief glance and nod for his helmsman before turning his attention to the lights visible in the distance. Land. It seemed like an eternity since they had even sighted land, let alone approached it with the intention of making port, not that he could really complain when their hold was currently filled to bursting and the crew were in high spirits, riding on the crest of success after months at sea. Still, he was looking forward to making port even if he knew that the call of the sea would lure him back before long, and he had already made plans to head to the first tavern that he could find when they cocked, as their supplies had begun to dwindle, the flask at his waist carrying the last precious mouthfuls of his favourite rum.

    He tapped his fingers against the flask, tempted to finish it now with the promise of reaching port by the next day lying within reach, and he was just about to give into the temptation when he paused, frowning as his attention was drawn to one of the flickering lights in the distance. This one was closer than the rest, and as he watched it appeared to rise and fall, moving in time with the gentle swell of the waves.

A ship.

    He knew that it wasn’t that unexpected this close to the port, especially as this one of the last few ports that were still safe from the Navy’s intensifying attempts to crack down on piracy, his fingers automatically moving to his arm, rubbing against the metal that existed where flesh should be. He’d had more than one run in with the Navy, and he bored the marks of it…most pirates did these days, and his crew was no exception, and it made ports like this both a rare commodity and a fiercely protected treasure. Even the most battle-hungry would try and keep the peace in these waters, an unspoken agreement to preserve what they had, and he almost turned away, determined to keep the unspoken agreement, but there was something about the other ship that made him look back instead, worrying at his bottom lips as he studied it.

     It took him a moment to put his finger on it, before it dawned on him that the ship wasn’t moving as it should be if it was heading for the narrow straits that led to the port, instead it seemed to be circling in one area, and he tapped his fingers against his arm, curiosity aroused.

    All thoughts about drinking and port banished from his mind for the moment, he made his way to the helm, making an approving noise as his newest recruit, Jamieson, a wild-eye ex-naval gunner handed him a battered eyeglass. The device was ancient, older than the ship, and one of the few mementos he had of the woman who had rescued him and taught the ropes of being a Pirate when he had run away to sea all those years ago. It still worked though, kept in working order with careful dedication over the years and he put it to his eye, glad for the clear sky and near full moon that aided with visibility.

   Now he could make out the rowboats in the water around the other ship and for half a moment he wondered if she was foundering, but no, there was no sign that the ship was settling lower in the water and the rowboats themselves were moving with too much purpose. Moving back and forth in what he recognised as a search pattern and his eyebrows climbed higher. What were you looking for? A quick scan showed that there was no evidence of another ship in the area, and there was no flotsam drifting in the water, so they weren’t retrieving loot from a battle. So, what had them searching so avidly at this time of night? Especially in waters that were well known for their caprices? It wouldn’t be the first time that a ship that had thought that it had made it safely through these waters, would find itself being pushed towards the rocks a few minutes later, caught by the currents and winds that changed at whim. So, whatever had caught their interest had to be valuable.

“Captain? What are your orders?” He turned at the question, startled to realise that more of the crew had assembled whilst he was distracted, although he really shouldn’t have been after all this time. They were a ragtag bunch, but their instincts and talents were second to none, and his lips pulled back in a reckless grin as he saw the expectant gazes, and his attention shifted to the hulking figure of Mako at the helm.

“Bring us about,” he ordered as he folded away the eyeglass, hearing the excited whispers that rippled through the gathered crew and feeling the anticipation that seeped into the air as his order was relayed between them. It had been a while since they had seen any real action, and it made him realise that he’d made the right decision even if it turned out to be nothing, not relishing the thought of how much mischief they could cause in port if they didn’t use this pent-up need for battle beforehand. There was no real need for them to investigate, the contents of their hold would see them well paid for months and replenish their supplies, but then again Anna had been the one to teach him that you could never have too much and that it was better to have resources for when things went to hell. Underneath the rational reasons was the curiosity though, the same desire to investigate the unknown and learn the sea’s secrets that had torn a young farmer’s lad away from land.

He wanted to know what they were looking for.

    The ship came to life around him, the crew that had been resting quickly being roused by the others as Mako swung the ship to port, the main mast creaking in protest as the wind caught them and for a wild, terrifying moment McCree thought that they might’ve been caught in the very trap he’d thought the other ship might sail into. However, _The Deadeye_ was a sturdy ship and used to much harsher seas and she quickly steadied, speeding up as the crew ran out the sweeps, hoping to take advantage of their target’s current distraction to close the distance undetected.

    Satisfied that his crew had matters in hand, McCree moved to stand at the bow, watching as _The Deadeye_ cut her way through the waves that were starting to grow and roughness as they drew closer to the islands where the port lay hidden. He lost himself in the motion of the waves, the repetitive rise and fall of the deck beneath his feet, letting his mind clear as he drew his pistol and checked it over, finger moving with practiced ease. It was another lesson that Ana had drilled into his head, that someone had to keep their head in the heat of battle and it might as well be the Captain, so find something to clear your thoughts as you approach your target. It didn’t stop the thrill of battle from reaching, or the excitement that was pooling in the pit of his stomach as the distance between them and their target rapidly decreased, but it stopped the reckless urge to rush in and prove himself. The same urge that had nearly cost him his life more times than he cared to count, and was responsible for some of the nastier scars that he bore.

OW

    They were almost within firing distance, the crew switching from the sweepers to the canons as they readied themselves for the battle to come, before the other ship finally came alive, lights springing into existence along the length of the deck. From where he was stood McCree could hear the panicked shouts carrying clearly across the water, and see the rowboats beginning to move out of formation as the men crewing them realised what was happening. McCree clicked his tongue disapprovingly, if his lookout had taken this long to see an approaching ship, regardless of what they were doing, then he would’ve killed them himself. Life out here was constantly on a knife-blade and mistakes like that were unforgivable in his mind. Returning his gun to its holster he turned away from the sight, nodding approvingly at his assembled crew, every one of them ready for the battle to come, his eyes seeking out Jamieson who was grinning wildly as he oversaw the crew members that moving the canons into position, and piling up munitions in preparation.

“Ready the guns,” he ordered, wondering if he should be more worried as Jamieson let out a cackle and eagerly moved to follow his order…to eagerly…before his attention shifted back to Mako who was waiting expectantly, probably the calmest after McCree, hands steady on the wheel. “Bring us alongside and fire a full broadside, before bringing us around again. Those of you on deck target the men in those row boats and aim for the tethers, if they’re adrift they won’t be a threat to us.” With port so close and their holds already full to the gunwales he wasn’t about to get reckless, and as he let his gaze rove over the crew, moving from one face to the other he narrowed his eyes in warning. “As soon as we’ve disabled her, we’ll board her. I want no heroics, we’ve come too far for you to get yourselves killed now. Understood?” The last bit was a demand as silence had settled over the crew in the wake of is orders, and slowly he was answered by a chorus of ‘Yes Captain’, and he carefully took note of the more reluctant members, unsurprised to see that Jamieson was the worst…after all the gunner had been caught purely because he had rushed in recklessly when McCree had fought the Naval ship he was serving on.

    However, there was little that he could do about it now as the other ship fired the first volley, the dull thunder of canons filling the air before the water off the starboard side erupted into the air. It was starting, and despite his own cautionary words and Ana’s lessons echoing in his head, McCree couldn’t stop himself from grinning wildly once more as his crew scattered to their positions.

_Now, let’s see what you’re up to._

****

    Hanzo must’ve dozed off at some point or lost consciousness, because he found himself jolting awake as thunder filled the air, shooting backwards in alarm as for a moment he forgot where he was. A yelp slipping free as he collided with the walls tapping him in place, painfully reminding him of where he was, and for a moment his vision wavered, the world going in and out of focus. The thunder didn’t fade though, coming in strange intervals, and he used the noise to ground himself and stop himself from slipping under again. _What is happening_? Everything was sluggish, his thoughts cloudy as he twisted and turned in the water, trying to see what was happening beyond his prison.

   Water sloshed over his head, and out onto the wooden floor beyond as his entire prison jolted to the side after a particularly loud roar of thunder. Frantic he pressed himself against the front of his prison, peering into the cabin beyond, searching for some explanation of what was happening, but the cabin was empty, with no sign that the humans had returned recently. It was hard to hear anything over the thunder filling the air, but as he lifted his head briefly above the water he fancied that he could make out panicked shouts and cries of pain somewhere nearby, feeling a brief flicker of vindictive satisfaction, before terror flooded him its wake.

He was going to die here.

He wasn’t going to see his home again.

He wasn’t going to see his brother again. _Genji…_

     That last thought hurt more than anything, and forgetting all about his injuries and exhaustion he flung himself at the wall of his prison, ignoring the fact that he had just reopened several of the cuts and caught of the hooks hanging from his tail. Blood blossomed in the water around him, but he paid it no mind, throwing himself at the wall again and again, swirling around and trying a different wall, before blindly returning to the first. Fear was clouding his thoughts, blinding him to the pain and making it impossible for him to think about anything but getting out of here, of escaping. However, his body remembered, and it didn’t take long for his efforts to weaken, even his terror not enough to keep him going, until all he was able to do was scrabble weakly at the walls with his claws, slowly sinking back to the bottom of the container, vision blurring and darkening around the edges.

_I don’t want to die here._

****

   McCree tasted blood as he ducked his head, taking the blow on his cheek rather than his neck as intended, grimacing at the pain but not allowing it to distract him as he ducked under the sword that was swinging for his neck once more, this time throwing his arm up to deflect it. He grinned, aware of the blood now staining his teeth and lips as he took in the shocked expression that greeted the sound of metal on metal, and the fear as the pirate realised that his blade was now chipped. He didn’t give his opponent time to recover, curling metal fingers into a fist and driving it into the man’s stomach. Wheezing and gasping the man doubled over and McCree didn’t hesitate, twisting free and bringing the butt of his gun down amongst filthy blond hair, and the man crumpled at his feet.

   However, McCree was already moving on without a backwards glance, taking out another Pirate with a well-aimed shot, grateful for all the hours Ana had spent teaching him to fight, drilling it into him until he had become one of the best shots alive on the sea. He spared a moment to check on the rest of the boarding party, but his crew were more than holding their own, cries of triumph filling the air as they slowly but steadily crushed what few pockets of resistance still existed.

   The element of surprise had given them the edge from the very beginning, as had _The Deadeye’s_ greater mobility over their anchored, unprepared target, and McCree had felt a familiar surge of pride in his beloved ship as she had delivered a devastating broadside before sweeping clear as the other ship had returned fire. She had taken only minor damage in the skirmish, moving easily into place between their main target and the rowboats that had been cast adrift under the original onslaught, preventing any reinforcements from reaching them, and now she waited, guns trained on them in case the battle went badly. But as McCree’s gaze swept the length of the deck he doubted that would happen, in fact he doubted that the fight would last much longer.

    Their original volley had left the ship listing badly, one of the masts lying in two pieces across the deck, several of the crew pinned beneath it and he winced sympathetically as he heard their pained cries and desperate pleas for help, knowing that there was no way for them to survive injuries like that. From the way she was sitting in the water now, it was clear that water was leaking in and he knew that they would need to wrap this up quickly before they were taken down with it, which meant…

   A snarled curse cut through his thoughts, warning him just in time as another assailant charged at him, face contorted with fury and teeth drawn back in a feral snarl, and in a split instance McCree had moved out of his path and lifted his pistol. He had seen this man barking orders when they had first come onboard, but it was the desperation behind the anger in the wild, brown eyes that met his that confirmed that this was the ship’s Captain. McCree easily recognised the emotion, the desperate, almost all-consuming need to protect his ship and crew. It was a feeling he knew all too well, and it was why he didn’t hesitate to fire, their gazes locking as the other Captain managed to stumble several more steps towards McCree before he went down hard, the gun he had forgotten about in his charge skittering across the deck and coming to a halt by McCree’s foot.

    Taking a deep breath, he became aware of the frantic shouts around him, cries of pain and fear as they realised what was happening and slowly he took a step back, kicking the gun away, and looking around with a blank expression. The few members of the ship’s crew who had still been fighting were frozen in place, wide-eyed as they glanced between him and their Captain, before slowly, one by one they began to drop their weapons to the deck. It was only when a cheer went up from his own men that McCree let the reality of the situation wash over him.

It was over.

    McCree was almost disappointed, still feeling the rush from the battle and their victory even as he began to bark orders, alarmed by the extent of the ship’s listing at this point. Organising his crew, he set one team to searching the holds that weren’t already under water and herding out any Pirates that might be hiding from them, whilst another group was set to work ferrying those that wouldn’t die from their injuries out to the row boats as it was clear the ship was scuttled. None of his crew argued, even though most other Captains would have left their captives to survive on their own and he was relieved, knowing that he was unusual, but his time with Ana had taught him to respect life, as long as it didn’t come at the cost of your own or those under your protection.

    Once everyone was working, he headed below decks himself, the curiosity burner brighter than ever as there had been nothing topside or amongst the captured crew that had caught his attention or suggested that this venture had been worth it. His demands to know what they had been looking for had been met with a stony silence, and resentful glares. Apparently killing their Captain had taken the fight out of them, but not the loyalty, something he would normally appreciate, but not now that time was against them as the ship lurched again, creaking as she began to come apart.

   He kept his pistol in his hand as he moved cautiously through the ship. He had learned the hard way not to let his guard down just because they’d won the battle, the ever-present ache in the stump of his arm was a constant reminder of that lesson. However, he could hear his own men in the distance, their excited chatter slowly letting him relax and focus on his surroundings with a curious eye. The ship had been in good condition, well-kept, at least before _The Deadeye_ had torn her to pieces, and he almost lamented that fact as he carefully picked his way through the debris littering the floor. The holes they had blasted in the walls letting the sunrise in, light creeping towards him as he moved onwards.

   Disappointment was rising, nearly overwhelming as he cleared the galley and what had clearly been the doctor’s cabin, although he winced at the thought of what Ana would have said if she could see the mess of the medicinal cabinet. He was still empty-handed as he moved on and there was nothing to indicate that he was going to find anything of value further in, and he growled under his breath. He didn’t like going home empty-handed.

   Ducking beneath a beam that was shattered in the middle, awkwardly blocking the passage, he spied another door ahead and grinned as he spotted the rough letters that had been painstakingly carved into the wood. _Captain._ If there was anything to be found beyond the holds then it would be here, most Captain’s liking to keep their valuables close to home, although in McCree’s mind that was more like painting a target on yourself, especially if your crew was one that was rife with tension.

    Reaching the door, he paused, running his fingers over the word, his only tribute to the man he had killed before he tried to shove the door open. It creaked and inched open before it hit something and stopped, leaving him with barely a crack to peer through and he cursed, this time using his shoulder to push against it. It moved another inch before stopping again, and this time he frowned as heard a strange chinking noise before it stopped, followed by what sounded like water sloshing against something solid.

“Damn it,” he muttered, holstering his gun so that he could use both hands as he pushed the door again, digging his feet in, trying to find a purchase amongst the debris and this time he was rewarded with the sound of something heavy scraping across the wooden floor as the door inched open a bit more. It took him another few minutes of flinging himself at the wood, the task made harder by the increasing list of the ship before he had finally created an opening that was big enough for him to squeeze through. And it was a squeeze, his hand shooting up to rescue his hat as he wiggled his way through, whistling as he took in the devastation in the cabin. Several of their shots had clearly passed through, leaving gaping holes in the walls and carving a path of destruction through the rest cabin, what had clearly been a desk laying shattered in the middle, maps and navigating tools scattered over the floor and McCree had a feeling that anything valuable had met a similar fate.

   Growling another curse, he turned to see what had been blocking the door in the hopes of making it easier to leave, only to find himself frozen in place, barely aware of his mouth slowly dropping open.

    Lying tilted against the wall and door was a poor-excuse for a tank, water leaking from the corner at an alarming rate and cracks spreading up one side. However, it was what lay inside that held his attention as McCree forced himself to move forward on suddenly trembling legs. He’d heard the stories, of course he had, all sailors had and even those who never ventured out to sea had stories of their own, whispers of the creatures that lived beneath the sea. Creatures that shouldn’t exist. Yet whilst he had seen plenty in all his years at sea, he’d never seen anything that would make him think that they were anything more than myth. Until today, he amended, eyes slowly following the glistening scales of the tail that was pressed awkwardly up against the front of the glass, tracing it upwards to where it connected with pallid skin. Here and there he could see patches of scales on the creature’s torso, and there were soft, feathery gills along its neck that fluttered with each breath that it took. Each breath that it took, whilst under water…

McCree blinked and then blinked again, swiping a hand over his eyes, wondering if perhaps he had imagined the whole night and was really passed out aboard _The Deadeye_ somewhere, but the image didn’t waver or fade and after a moment he swallowed. _I’m not seeing things…_

“Hey,” he called, voice soft, the same tone that he had learned from his father when dealing with injured animals on the farm. “Oi, can you hear me?” He tapped on the glass, wincing as the cracks spread further, but his gaze remained locked on the creature, searching its face for some sign that it knew that he was there. However, its eyes remained shut, head lolling in the water and this close it wasn’t hard to see why, the discolouration in the water that he had put down to the rising sun beginning to stream through the damaged walls talking on new meaning as he took in the wounds littering the creature’s body wincing in sympathy as he spied metal hooks embedded in more than one of the cuts.

    Resting his palm flat against the glass he couldn’t resist staring at it for another moment, heart hammering in his chest, fingers itching to touch those iridescent scales. A merman. All the stories he had heard, the songs that they sang late at night and yet none of them had prepared him for the beauty of the creature in front of him. It was hard to imagine it hunting sailors or luring to their death, and whilst he knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving, all he could feel in that moment was sympathy for the merman and he sighed, realising that there was no way he was going to be able to leave it behind in this condition.

****

    Hanzo felt like he had been clawing his way towards consciousness for a long time, vague impressions of pain, of movement, and a soft, soothing voice breaking through the darkness at times, but never enough to fully rouse him. Finally, though it seemed as though the shadows were lessening, although it was still a long, exhausting fight before he managed to coax his eyes open, wondering when he had closed them in the first place, as his last memory was of his frantic efforts to escape his prison. Attempts that had clearly ended in failure he realised bitterly as he began to focus, taking in the clear material that he was pressed against, misery and defeat making him close his eyes again, only to still as his tail swayed behind him and didn’t encounter anything.

    Twisting, frightened of what he might find, he instead found his eyes widening with surprise as he realised that his prison had changed. It was still a prison, walls shimmering as though to reinforce that fact, but it was different, bigger, and now that he was paying attention he realised that the water was no longer stagnant, the taste of salt on his lips a welcome reminder of home after the water he had been in before. _When did this happen?_ He shuddered, releasing that for this to have happened, someone… a human…had to have touched him, and his skin crawled at the thought, glancing down at himself, remembering the last time humans had touched him and expecting to find fresh injuries.

    Instead he was startled to find that his body was covered in a patchwork of sodden material, clearly intended to wrap the wounds, and a quick investigation showed that the worst of the cuts had also been sown shut. The work was rough but effective, although the material was nothing like what his people would use, coarse to the touch and painful when he made the mistake of tugging on it for a second before leaving it be.

_Why? Why would they help me?_

    It went against everything he had ever been told about humans, everything the stories had taught him, filling him with uneasiness as he drifted back towards the front of his prison, squinting at the room beyond. The memories were vague, clouded with pain and fear, but he could remember the walls of the other cabin collapsing, fire and smoke filling his vision, but the cabin that he was in now was untouched. It was different from the other one, almost homely as he took in the trinkets scatted over every available surface, the sight reminding him of the shells and human relics he had filled his own home with, feeling a pang at the reminder. Because whilst certain things seemed to have improved, the fact remained that he was as far from home as before, perhaps further, because it seemed as though whoever had tended his injuries had wanted to make sure he would live and despite the ‘kindness’ he couldn’t see them just releasing him. Not after all the tales he had been told.

     He tested the front of his prison, pushing against it with as much strength as he dared, not expecting it to give although it didn’t stop the disappointment that welled up when it didn’t shift in the slightest. Pushing it weakly again, he sighed, letting himself sink down to the bottom and curling in on himself for comfort. The movement still hurt, but not as much as before and he almost wished that it did, if only to distract himself from the reality of the situation.

**

    McCree hummed under his breath as he let himself into his cabin, enjoying the brief peace that came with most of his crew currently being on shore leave. Normally he would have been with them, his dreams of the tavern still lurking in the back of his thoughts, but for now he was remaining onboard, and as he stepped inside his eyes darted to the reason for the change in plans. Only to blink as for the first time in two days he found his unexpected ‘guest’ staring back at him and he paused, studying the merman who was watching him just as intently. Somehow, he had expected it to have eerie, inhuman eyes, but the dark eyes that were taking in everything about him were frighteningly human, showing fear and uncertainty, even though he couldn’t see a trace of either emotion in the merman’s blank expression.

   Slowly, highly aware of the wary eyes watching his every move, McCree closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room. He hadn’t been able to stop his crew from seeing the creature, having needed their help to transport him onboard _The Deadeye_ and to construct the make-shift tank after the other had proved unfixable, not that he had been happy with the thought of leaving the merman in such a cramped container in the first place. His crew hadn’t been happy either, wary of the creature and not wanting to take it onboard, or whispering about selling it for a fortune, before he had told them to hold their tongues. Most wouldn’t come near his cabin now, but he didn’t think the merman would fancy being gawked at by the few crew members that remained on board, although the full-body flinch that greeted the door being closed told him that it wasn’t any happier being alone with him.

“You’re finally awake,” McCree commented, keeping his tone deliberately light as he moved to his desk and set down the fish he had bought in the hopes that his guest would wake up and be able to eat today. He didn’t have the first clue about merpeople, but he doubted that going days without food was good for them, and if he was honest with himself he had been starting to worry that his efforts had been too little, too late. He wasn’t sure whether he was expecting an answer to his comment or not, but the silence was unnerving, especially as he could feel eyes burning into him and he sighed as he turned around to meet the dark gaze, taking one cautious step towards the tank and then another.

    He was barely a foot away from the tank when the merman finally moved, rearing up in front of the glass, the delicate looking gills flaring as he tried to make himself look larger and more intimidating than he was. “Release me,” the merman hissed at him, revealing sharp teeth, his tail lashing behind him. McCree was temporarily taken aback by the sound of a human voice coming from the creature, nothing like the siren song spoken of in the myths, although there was something about it…and he found himself savouring the smoothness that lurked behind the hiss, before focusing on the words, sighing as he shook his head.

“No.” If looks could kill, them he would have been dead there and then, the merman’s gaze turning venomous as it registered the quiet refusal, and he could its hands clenching and unclenching, as though it was imagining being able to take those claws to McCree. Despite the sight that it made, and the damage that it knew those claws would be able to do if they caught him, McCree couldn’t find the creature was intimidating as it was trying to be. Instead he found his lips quirking up into a small smile as he took in the easy way that the merman was moving through the water, with only a lingering stiffness and hesitation to show that the wounds were still healing.

    It had taken several long hours to deal with all the damage that had been inflicted on the creature, made worse by the fact that McCree had insisted on doing it all himself, strangely protective of the merman, although he’d had the ship’s doctor by his side advising him. He could still remember how even unconscious, the merman had whimpered and tried to writhe away from him as he’d painstakingly eased each hook out from between the delicate scales. There would be scars, there was nothing he could do about that, but seeing the merman moving and awake reassured him that he hadn’t screwed up completely, even if it was less than happy with the situation.

“Why not?” The merman demanded, slamming a hand against the glass to gain his attention and McCree fund himself staring at it incredulously. _Wasn’t it obvious?_ Apparently not he realised as he took in the expectant glare that demanded a reply and he sighed, before gesturing at the bandages wrapped around its torso.

“Look at yourself.” Dark eyes did glance down, but there was no softening of the angry expression and he tugged at his hat, wondering just how stubborn the creature was going to be about this, before explaining. “Do you think I’m gonna let you go in that condition? I put in all this work to make sure you lived, I ain’t about to let you get picked off by a hungry shark.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“So how did you end up on that ship?” McCree demanded, voice and words sharper than he had intended, regretting it when the merman flinched and backed up slightly, gills deflating as he hunched in on himself. Still, if it would stop him from trying to push himself too hard then perhaps it was for the best, although it didn’t ease the guilt, and he softened his voice as he took half a step forward. “Look, you need to rest and eat, and let yourself heal Then we’ll talk about it.” That caught the merman’s attention, dark eyes meeting his once more, the stubbornness giving way to a desperation that nearly took McCree’s breath away.

“Then you’ll release me?”

“I…We’ll see,” McCree hedged, not wanting to make the creature any promises that he wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep. He had heard the whispers amongst the crew, knew that those that weren’t scared of the creature were already trying to work out how much money they could make from this discovery, even after the haul for their current cargo had been far more than expected. Part of him was curious as well, knowing that there were many like him who had heard the stories and never believed, and here he was, the proof in his hands and dependent on him for its survival. Yet at the same time he couldn’t ignore the desperation in that plea, or the despairing expression that greeted his non-answer before the Merman twisted in the water, the movement only hinting at how graceful it might’ve be when uninjured, presenting him with a clear view of his back. Dismissing him. McCree sighed, having a feeling that he might have been better off saying nothing.

****

    The next few days passed slowly and in silence despite McCree’s best attempts at drawing the merman into conversation. The merman tolerated his presence because it had no other choice in the current situation, always watching him wary eyes, gills flaring whenever he came too close, and he’d had more than one close encounter with its sharp teeth and claws when he’d had to check on its wounds. The only time he had seen even a slight softening of the stern, forbidding expression had been when it came to meal times, remembering the surprise that had greeted him the first time he had presented the merman with fresh fish…almost as though he had expected to be starved. Although considering the state of the tank he had been kept in aboard the previous ship, perhaps it was a justifiable fear. It was why McCree had been careful to keep mealtimes as regular as possible, and to make it clear that the merman just had to ask if he wanted more food, almost hoping he would, just so he could hear his voice once more.

“Thank you…” When the merman finally broke his silence, it was so soft that McCree had almost thought that he had imagined it, glancing up from his own meal to find that the merman had paused too, staring down at the fish it was holding with a strange expression on its face, the blank mask breaking for once.

“Did you just…?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” McCree grinned foolishly at the snappish reply, not caring about the words or the tone, just relieved that the silence had finally been broken. The merman pulled a face at his expression before turning his attention back to his fish and McCree reluctantly returned to his own meal, keeping half an eye on the creature as he did so. The merman ate with surprising delicacy, tail swaying slightly to hold him in position, sharp teeth making short work of bones and scales. “Have you never seen someone eat before?” The question startled him, and he coloured as he found dark eyes watching him, a hint of amusement belying the irritation in his words.

“Not a merperson.”

“Have you ever seen one of my kind before?” There was genuine curiosity now, and longing, an echo of the desperation that he had seen a few days before. McCree paused for a moment, stunned as for the first time he realised that of course there had to be more of them out there, and that the merman probably had family of his own out there, waiting for him to return. It was an unpleasant realisation, especially as he still hadn’t made his mind up about what he was going to do when the creature was healed, and it took him longer than it should for him to realise that it was still waiting for a reply, his voice subdued as he shook his head.

“No.” He was unsurprised this time when the merman’s expression darkened before it turned away, abandoning the remnants of its meal as it curled up on itself, tail twisted into an awkward self-hug as it shut him out once more.

**

   Despite the way their conversation had ended the merman slowly began to converse with him more, mainly in the form of sharp comments and demands to be released, the latter increasing along with its strength and more than once McCree feared that a strong flick of that tail would shatter the glass. However, in between those worries and the biting comments, the merman proved to possess a sharp wit and a dry sense of humour, along with a curiosity for all things human. The latter usually manifested in random questions, or the merman pointing at items around the cluttered cabin and demanding their names and purpose, information that McCree was willing to give, even though a small part of him wondered if it was completely wise.

    In turn he was begrudgingly granted glimpses into the merman’s life before he had been caught, the merman telling him little bits about life under the sea, although McCree usually regretted asking as the longing, the desperation to free would seep back in with each word. On those occasions the conversations would usually come to an end shortly after, the merman falling silent, retreating in on itself when it became clear that McCree wasn’t going to free him just yet.

    It was during one of their better conversation, the merman in relatively good spirits as he listened to McCree explaining how he used the sextant to navigate, when he finally dared to return to the question he had left alone since their first disastrous encounter. “You don’t have to answer,” he started, almost snorting at his own words as the merman had already proven that he wouldn’t answer if he didn’t want to. “But I was wondering how you were even caught in the first place?” He didn’t look at the merman, keeping his attention on the map that he had spread out across the floor in front of the tank, plotting the course he intended to take once _The Deadeye_ left port. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the way the merman recoiled at the question, clearly caught off guard. He didn’t expect an answer, not after that reaction, and he was surprised when a couple of minutes later it drifted back into sight, turning his head to look at it, meeting the intense stare as the merman visibly hesitated, no doubt weighing up whether to reply or not and he was about to take it back when it finally spoke.

“I was chasing my brother…” _Brother._ Before the merman had always been careful to avoid anything too personal, making it sound almost as though he lived alone, and McCree felt a pang at the confirmation that there was someone out there waiting for the merman to return. He had hoped that there wasn’t, wanting to believe that he wasn’t keeping him from his family, that he might have less reason to release him and he looked away, hoping that his thoughts weren’t written across his face. “We argued…about humans.” That caught McCree’s attention and he looked up before he could stop himself, startled by the wry smile that greeted the reaction.

“What about us?”

“From childhood we are warned to stay away from humans.” The merman swam as he spoke, moving from one end of the tank to the other, almost as though he was pacing. “There are as many warnings and stories about humans as there are stars in the sky, and our mother…” There was pain there McCree realised and he didn’t say anything, knowing that loss all too well himself, instead watching as the merman gathered itself, gills fluttering as it took several deep breaths before continuing. “I always listened to them and stayed away, but my bother. Genji… he has always been curious and rebellious, and he kept searching out your kind, both on ships and on the shore. I was worried. I spoke too sharply to him, and he fled. Normally he would have sulked for a while and then come back to argue with me some more, but he didn’t and when I went to find him, I found him surrounded by several of your small boats. Hooked. Terrified.”

“They caught him?” McCree demanded, horrified, he hadn’t had a chance to fully search the other ship after he’d found the merman, needing what time he had to move the leaking tank from the sinking ship and he had a moment of panic at the thought that he might have missed this Genji. The merman shook his head.

“No. I stopped them from taking him.”

 _At the price of your own freedom,_ McCree realised when the merman trailed off with a pained expression, watching as it brushed across its wounds with trembling fingers, lingering on the one that left the length of his side. The same wound that had given McCree the most worry, and one that looked painfully like he had thrown himself into the path of a spear. McCree cursed under his breath, hating himself as he remembered how curious he had been when he had seen what the other ship had been doing, the burning need to know what they were searching for. Only they hadn’t been searching he realised now, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. They had been hunting.

_I can’t keep him._

    He pushed the thought away, not ready to confront it just yet. The silence that had settled between them wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but McCree needed an escape from his own thoughts and he latched onto something else the merman had said, sensing that they both needed a lighter topic. “What kind of stories were you told about us?” He asked, leaning back against the glass and twisting so that he could look at the merman, noting the relief in the dark eyes at the change of topic, the merman drifting a little closer.

“Scary stories. We were told that humans were monsters,” the merman replied, and McCree fought back a wince. “That if they caught us, then they would kill us or hurt us, steal us away from the sea.” _He’s not wrong,_ McCree thought bitterly, eyes roving over the bandages and still healing wounds.  He had been trying to tell himself that it wasn’t that bad, that he wasn’t like the men that had caught the merman in the first place, but it was getting increasingly hard for him to convince himself of that.

“I’m sorry…”

“Why?” The merman looked startled, and McCree almost wanted to laugh. Almost. Because it hurt just how human the creature could be at times and he had to look away, fingers curling into fists in his lap, closing his eyes.

“Because your stories aren’t wrong, are they? We really are monsters…”

“No!” McCree jolted at the vehement denial, looking up at the merman with wide eyes, startled to see honest anger in the dark eyes as it stared at him. “I thought you were…I thought you were going to be just like those men that caught me, the ones that hurt my brother. I was waiting for you to be just like them, to be just like the monsters I was taught about growing up. But you’re not…”

“But…”

“You haven’t hurt me,” the merman cut him off, voice soft. “You’ve fed me, helped me…let me heal. I don’t know what to think about you, I don’t trust you…but you’re not a monster.” It hurt to hear that he wasn’t trusted, but he couldn’t blame the merman, not when he still hadn’t given him a proper answer about whether he would let him go or not. But there was a warmth in his chest all the same, relief blossoming at the thought that somehow, he had convinced the merman that he wasn’t like those other pirates. _But aren’t I?_ No, he couldn’t think of that right now, not under the dark gaze.

“Neither are you…” McCree murmured instead, thinking about the whispers, the fear amongst those of his crew who did believe in the myths and songs about merpeople. Seeing the confusion, he sighed, leaning back against the glass once more. “We have stories too. Myths and songs that tell us of the cre…” He trailed off, not sure he could bring himself to finish the word and the merman shot him a too knowing look, finishing it for him.

“Creatures…”

   McCree nodded awkwardly, the bland way the merman had said the word making it somehow worse, but he knew that he couldn’t stop now. “That live under the sea. Stories about merpeople luring sailors into the depths and drowning them, and guiding ships onto the rocks to see them founder…” _We talk about them like monsters,_ McCree realised. It was strange to think that they had been raised in two completely different worlds, but had been reared on painfully similar stories… only their stories were more accurate than ours, he thought a split second before the merman finally reacted, gills flaring as he hissed at McCree.

“We wouldn’t.”

“I know.” The words slipped out easily, honest and McCree realised that he meant them. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that the merman couldn’t do just what the tales accused merpeople of, after all he had felt those teeth and claws for himself, and there was something about the merman’s voice that called to him, perhaps enough to lure him to places he would normally avoid. But he wouldn’t… there were very few certainties about life on the sea, it was one of the many things that appealed to him, but McCree harboured no doubt at all about this. The merman looked stunned by the reassurance, staring at him as though he had never seen him before and McCree coughed awkwardly and looked away, trying to ignore the heat he could feel in his cheeks.

    They remained like that for a few minutes, the silence not quite awkward, but not as easy as it had been before and in the end McCree was the one to break it, pushing himself to his feet as he glanced up at the window and saw that it was later in the day than he’d realised. “I’ll go and rustle us up some food,” he muttered, not quite looking at the merman, but still managing to catch the same startled expression that appeared at each meal time, before it nodded.

    He had just reached the door, hand resting on the wood when the merman spoke again, voice so soft that he had to strain to hear it.

“Hanzo.”

“What?” He turned to look at it, frowning, not sure that he heard correctly, and the merman sighed, tail swishing in agitation as it hesitated for a moment, as though gathering its courage and when it spoke again, it refused to meet his gaze, expression more open that he had ever seen it before.

“My name…is Hanzo.”

“Hanzo.” McCree tried the name, rolling it over on his tongue, savouring it even as something deep and unpleasant welled up. It had been easier to ignore his thoughts, his worries about what he was going to do when it had just been a creature…before he had known his name. _Hanzo. Genji…_ He swallowed thickly, realising that all his excuses to hold onto Hanzo had just been stripped away from him, and it took him a moment to find his voice again, realising that he couldn’t ignore the gesture. “I’m Jesse…Jesse McCree.”

    The merman wrinkled his nose, mouthing the name over and over to himself, and McCree was about to leave him to it and fetch their food, needing a moment to himself, when he was pierced by dark eyes once more, something close to a smile appearing on Hanzo’s face.

“Thank you, Jesse McCree…”

_Damn…_

_I can’t keep him…_

****

_Thank you, Jesse McCree._

      McCree groaned as he rolled onto his back, unable to drift off to sleep, the quiet words that had been haunting his thoughts all evening now refusing to let him sleep. He hadn’t expected them, and the simple gratitude had torn through what lingering defences he had, shattering any hopes that he might have had that he could justify keeping Hanzo with him, even just for a little longer. It had been one thing to refuse to let him go when he was injured and barely able to move, but Hanzo was growing stronger and stronger by the day and whilst it would take a while for his injuries to heal fully, he was strong enough to defend himself now. And McCree could no longer cling to the idea that Hanzo was just a creature that happened to look and act slightly humanish on occasion, because the merman was more human than most of the men he had met in his time at sea.

_And he has a family._

    He rolled onto his side, this time facing his cabin, eyes seeking out Hanzo. The merman was asleep, or doing a pretty good impression of it, stern features relaxed in a way that they never were when he was awake, making him look almost peaceful. Almost as though he wasn’t a prisoner. _Thank you, Jesse McCree._ McCree didn’t know why he was trying to lie to himself anymore, knowing that his decision about what to do with Hanzo had been the moment he had realised that he had a family waiting for him. No. If he was being perfectly honest, it had always been there from the moment that he had first laid eyes on the merman, but he had managed to hide it, deceiving himself and those around him…waiting… it had been necessary when Hanzo had need looking after, but now he was just dragging it out, and he sighed as he sat up, shoving the covers down to his feet and slipping out of the bed.

    He padded across the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible so that he didn’t disturb Hanzo as he approached the tank, studying the merman in the half-light cast by the dying oil lamp in his desk. He was beautiful, otherworldly and yet frighteningly real and McCree itched to reach out and touch him, to commit all this to memory before it was too late. He didn’t though, instead rest his palm against the glass for a moment.

“It’s time…” _I have to let him go,_ he finished silently, closing his eyes at the unexpected sting that came with that thought before forcing himself to back away from the tank. He took one step and then another, each as reluctant as the last before with a muffled curse he turned and bolted from the cabin, needing to get away and clear his thoughts, unaware of the dark eyes that had shot open behind him, staring after him in concern.

**

   Hanzo was roused by the water in his tank sloshing from side to side, and he frowned, blinking sleepily as he peered upwards and saw some of it splashing over the sides, eyes widening with concern as he heard it hitting the floor of the cabin. He had got used to the gentle motion that came from the ship rocking as waves washed into the port, but this was different, the entire tank rocking around him. Pressing himself up against the glass he peered out at the cabin, startled to find no sign of McCree, the bed still unmade after he had bolted from the room during the early hours and he felt a prickle of unease. _It’s time._ He had caught the words, but he didn’t know what McCree had meant by them. Last night he had dismissed it, certain that it wasn’t going to be anything bad, but now…

_What is happening?_

     It wasn’t just his tank that was moving he realised, watching as a small carved figure of a whale rolled off the desk, before his gaze darted to the window, breath catching in his throat. Ever since he had woken all he had been able to see was sheer cliffs out of the window, but now he could see clear sky, with birds flying behind the ship and he swallowed thickly. They had left port. _Why? Why didn’t he say anything?_ As much as he wanted to believe in McCree, he had been honest when he said that he didn’t fully trust the human and it was showing now, fear welling up as he circled his tank uneasily. Where were they going? Was McCree finally going to release him, even though he hadn’t given any indication of it…or was he going to prove Hanzo wrong, and turn out to be just as much of a monster as the stories had told him.

_No. He wouldn’t._

    It wasn’t as reassuring as Hanzo had wanted it to be, and he found himself circling again, his fear intensifying with each rocking motion. He didn’t remember making a decision, but a moment later he found himself throwing himself at the front of the tank, for the first time in days trying to free himself, determined not to let himself be killed here, or taken away from the sea. _Genji._ There was still a small part of him that was telling him to calm down, reminding him that McCree had already shown that he was different from the other humans that he had encountered, but it wasn’t enough.

**

     McCree frowned as he heard the frantic splashing and thumps from his cabin as he had approached. He hadn’t dared come back to the cabin after making his decision, spending the night readying the ship for departure and rounding up the rest of his crew and fielding the questions and demands they’d had about what was happening with ‘the creature’. For the first time in years he’d found himself wanting to snap at them, fighting back the urge to snarl at some of the comments, Hanzo’s face and words haunting his every action. _He’s as human as you or I,_ he’d wanted to shout at one point, but he hadn’t, feeling as though his interactions with the merman had been something private.

    They hadn’t been happy with his decision to just release Hanzo, and at one point he had thought that the discussion might end in blows. In the end it had been Mako moving to stand behind him, stating that it was the ‘Captain’s decision’ that had silenced the arguments, as most of the men held the helmsman in high regard…and weren’t keen to anger him considering that he towered over most of them, and despite his bulk had proven to be a lethal fighter when he wanted. McCree was sure that it wouldn’t be the end of it, which was he was in a hurry to reach Hanzo and get him home, even as part of him baulked at the thought of parting with the merman despite his resolve.

    Stepping into his cabin, his eyes were immediately drawn to Hanzo as the merman launched himself at the side of the tank, causing the entire thing to wobble dangerously. “Hanzo!” McCree shouted, alarmed, imagining what would happen if it toppled, feeling sick at the thought of the merman injuring himself again and curing when Hanzo gave no sign of having heard him, repeating the action. “HANZO! STOP!” He bellowed as he strode forwards, and this time his voice seemed to reach Hanzo, the merman freezing mid-turn and turning his head to stare at him with wild eyes. The look was like a punch to the gut, because there was terror and desperation on it that hadn’t been there for days and McCree faltered. “What are you doing…?”

“McCree…” Hanzo whispered, recoiling, curling nervously in on himself, eyes skittering nervously between McCree and the window. “Where are we going…?” McCree blinked and then cursed as it dawned on him that Hanzo had realised that they were moving, and assumed the worst and he sighed, he hadn’t shared his decision because he didn’t want to risk himself trying to make excuses not to go through with it and it had clearly backfired.

“I’m taking you home,” McCree replied, feeling a pang at the words. However, it was worth it as Hanzo froze, staring at him wide-eyed for a moment before he saw a flicker of hope in the dark eyes, although it was clear that he was trying to fight it as he swallowed nervously, gaze darting to the sky beyond them.

“R-really?”

“You were the one that said that I wasn’t a monster,” McCree dared to take a step forward, relieved when rather than recoiling, Hanzo actually drifted closer. “I want to believe you, and I want to prove that you can trust me. I can’t do that my keeping you here any longer.” _No matter how much I want to,_ he added silently. It wasn’t the thought of the profit he might be losing, or the trouble his crew might give him, but the thought of coming to his cabin without Hanzo waiting for him that gave him pause. He had come to enjoy the merman’s company, to look forward to their conversations even when they had butted heads or wound up in awkward silence.

He was going to miss Hanzo.

   However, that paled in comparison to the smile that was slowly spreading across Hanzo’s face, lightening the stern features and the ache in his chest eased as he realised that for the first time he was catching a glimpse of the merman when he was truly happy. Something he would never have seen if he had decided to keep him. He knew that it was only a fleeting glimpse, that it was going to slip through his fingers just as everything else was, but it was enough.

“You’re really letting me go?” Hanzo asked again and this time McCree merely nodded, not sure that he could bear to repeat the words aloud. It was enough, because Hanzo moved to the front of his tank, hesitantly lifting his hand and laying it on the glass. McCree hesitated for a moment, not sure what he was asking for before slowly lifting his hand and mimicking Hanzo, swallowing as he looked at their hands lying next to one another. “Thank you,” Hanzo whispered, and McCree winced and let his hand fall away, it wasn’t something he should be thanked for, and it was a decision that he should have made days ago, but Hanzo was staring at him and his shoulders slumped.

“Always.”

**

“No,” Hanzo protested, darting to the far side of the tank and glaring at McCree as though daring him to come any closer, the peaceful atmosphere that had settled between them as they waited for _The Deadeye_ to sail free of the straits disappearing the moment that McCree had announced it was time. Or rather, when he had told Hanzo that he was going to have to carry him up on deck, not trusting his crew to carry the tank out given their thoughts on releasing the merman.

“Are you planning on walking up there?” McCree demanded, returning the glare with one of his own, trying to mask his hurt as Hanzo stared mistrustfully at him. Apparently, gratitude and budding friendship only went so far. Still he knew that he had won, even before Hanzo paused, glare darkening before he sighed and cautiously inched forwards as he realised that this was the only way he was getting out of here. It was clear that he wasn’t happy with the idea and McCree forced himself to stay where he was, waiting for Hanzo to approach him, one hand dangling in the water and it was a few minutes before he finally felt scales beneath his fingertips as the merman reached him. “Ready to go home?” He asked, forcing a grin as he met Hanzo’s gaze. _Don’t go._

“I…” There was a moment when he almost thought that Hanzo was going to say no, that he imagined there was reluctance in his eyes, but then he was nodding, a small smile on his lips, although it disappeared as he pulled himself up to the top of the tank. “I am…so let’s get this over with.” McCree nodded, biting back the urge to refuse, glad of his height as he manoeuvred to get a secure grip on Hanzo, not aided by the fact that Hanzo was clearly fighting not to recoil from his touch.

“Easy,” he murmured, gentle as he gathered the merman and lifted him from the tank, water cascading down him and the sides of the tank. He staggered, yelping as Hanzo grabbed at him, scraping him with his claws in panic as McCree wobbled for a moment, threatening to drop him, fingers tightening before he managed to steady himself. “Sorry.” Hanzo didn’t look happy, but he seemed to accept the apology, more careful this time as he moved to wrap his arms around McCree’s neck, tail flexing uneasily. He didn’t need to be in water all the time, but he preferred it, feeling vulnerable like this. “Let’s go.”

“What will you do with it?” Hanzo asked suddenly when they reached the door, looking behind them and McCree glanced back, startled to realise the merman was staring at the tank with a strange expression on his face.

“Destroy it,” he replied shortly, lips twisting into a slightly bitter smile as Hanzo glanced up at him in surprise. “I’m not planning on catching any more of your kind.” He wasn’t about to admit that he couldn’t bear the thought of someone or something other than Hanzo being in it.

“I see.”

    McCree was breathing heavily by the time he had carried Hanzo up on deck, the merman had been heavier than his seemingly delicate appearance might suggest, and he hadn’t been able to hold still, arms tightening convulsively whenever McCree staggered when the ship hit a swell, tail constantly shifting, as though he was already thinking about being able to swim properly. When they stepped out on the deck a tense silence fell around them, many of the crew backing up, but McCree bore them little mind because Hanzo had nearly rocketed out of his arms the moment he had set eyes on the sea and it was only quick reflexes that stopped him from dropping the merman.

“Hold on,” he scolded, but his heart wasn’t in it because he could feel Hanzo quivering with eagerness, the dark eyes fixated on the sea and he wasn’t sure if he even realised that he was still being carried, let alone that he was on a ship. “Hanzo…” Hanzo wasn’t listening and McCree abandoned his efforts to get through to him, rearranging his grip, before heading for the rowboat that was waiting to be lowered, only to discover that it wasn’t necessary.

    The moment they were within reach of the railing Hanzo lunged forwards catching McCree off guard and there wasn’t enough time for him to regain his grip, Hanzo’s tail striking him across the chest and sending him staggering back as the merman propelled himself over the edge. Panic clouding his thoughts McCree regained his balance and dashed forward, watching as Hanzo twisted mid-air to dive neatly into the waves below, disappearing for a moment, before his head reappeared above the surface as he bobbed up and down with the waves.    

“HANZO!” McCree didn’t care that his crew were watching, refusing to let Hanzo disappear without a proper farewell and for a moment the merman seemed to turn back and look at him, and McCree wished that he was close enough to see his expression clearly, because he imagined that with the sea swirling around him, then Hanzo’s smile would be breath-taking. He waited for a response, but after a long moment Hanzo twisted, tail flashing for a moment, scales iridescent in the morning sunlight before he disappeared once more.

Only this time he didn’t reappear.

****

Two weeks later:

He was going to die.

    McCree had accepted a long time ago that when he went it would be the sea that took him, but not yet, and not like this. Yet it didn’t seem like he was going to have much say in the battle, gasping and choking as another rough wave knocked him under the surface as he tried to gulp in air, and when he managed to kick his way back to the surface a moment later he was spluttering, vision peppered with black spots. Blinking furiously in an attempt to clear his vision he twisted in the water, kicking desperately to keep himself above the surface as he sought out _The Deadeye,_ praying that the wave that had knocked him overboard hadn’t done worse, panic rising until he finally caught a glimpse of her through the pelting rain, relief flooding him for a moment.

She was safe. His crew was safe.

    He, however, was not, as another wave slammed into him, forcing him further and further from the ship and threatening to force him underwater again. He was glad that Ana had took the time to teach him to swim, but he doubted that it would be enough in this storm, one unlike any that he had seen in his time at sea, and defeat welled up as he was pushed under the water again. Still he battled his way to the surface once more, body aching from the effort and exhaustion setting in as he was buffeted on all sides by the waves which only seemed to be increasing in size, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight this for much longer.

    Part of him hoped that his crew would come through, even with the tensions that had existed since Hanzo’s release a few weeks before, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen and not because they didn’t want to. Mako had barely been able to keep her bow facing the heart of the storm, there was no way they would be able to bring her about without risking the entire ship and crew and even if they could, McCree knew that it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, his head barely above water, and the waves growing as the storm intensified. No, he was on his own…as he had been for the last couple of weeks and he closed his eyes, feeling a familiar pang as his thoughts turned to Hanzo, regret bleeding into the feeling of defeat as he let himself drift with the waves, no longer fighting them.

    He had lingered hopefully for nearly a full week after Hanzo’s abrupt departure, hoping that it had just been the excitement of being in the sea once more, of being free that had been behind the lack of farewell. As his crew had grown more and more reckless, he had spent nearly every waking moment on the deck, scanning the waves for the merman, imagining half a dozen times that he saw a flicker of iridescent scales out of the corner of his eye, only to find nothing when he turned to look. Still it had been better than sitting in his now lonely cabin, staring at the space where the tank had sat, replaying every conversation they’d ever had over and over in his mind.

   In the end though he had been forced to admit that Hanzo wasn’t coming back, a bitter admission, and with a heavy heart he had set sail…and this was where it had got him. Adrift in a storm, with no way of going home and regrets weighing heavy on his heart. He hadn’t seen Hanzo again…he hadn’t made peace with his crew… he hadn’t lived up to Ana’s expectations…he opened his eyes one last time, seeking out _The Deadeye_ once more, not for rescue this time, but to say farewell to the one place that he had ever truly called home, seeing her lights in the distance and catching a glimpse of her masts and rigging as lightning flashed above him, and then the storm closed in once more and she disappeared.

He was alone.

   Another wave washed over him, forcing him under. There was no air here, just water seeping in and McCree panicked, terror rising, thrashing as he tried to fight his way back to the surface. Only now he wasn’t which direction he was supposed to be going, the water pulling him this way and that, forcing him further and further from his goal. His chest hurt from lack of air, head pounding. He needed air. He needed to breathe. He needed to live. Desperately he opened his eyes again, trying to gain some idea of where he was going and for half a second he thought he saw it…that flash of iridescent scales that had had haunted him for the past couple of weeks, but when he blinked all he saw through blurry vision was the dark waters surrounding him, and pain of a different sort flashed through him.

_I’m never going to see him again…_

    This time when his eyes started to slip close he didn’t fight it. It was too much, a fogginess creeping over his thoughts as he stopped struggling, letting the sea take him, and his final thought as he drifted off into darkness, was of Hanzo.

_I wanted to see you….one more time._

**

   Awareness crept back slowly. First came the pain, an all-encompassing ache that radiated through his entire body, almost as though he had been battered from all directions, and as the memory of high waves and dark waters came back to him, he admitted that wasn’t far off. It was tempting to sink under again, to seek an escape from the ache, from the burning feeling in his chest and throat as he breathed, reminding him of the time when he hadn’t been able to, but he fought the urge, breathing slowly and deeply, relishing in the ability.

    He lay like that for several minutes, just breathing, in and out. The pain fading a little as he started to pay attention to his surroundings, still not ready to attempt opening his eyes, not even sure that he could. He was laid on something soft, something that shifted when he moved ever so slightly, and his forehead crinkled…it wasn’t his bunk…sand? Now that he was focusing he could hear the sea in the distance, easily recognising the sound of waves washing up a beach, feeling a pang at the sound, because despite the terror he had felt when he had been pulled under he still loved the sea and the thought that he might not see her again had killed him.

    He shouldn’t be able to hear her though…shouldn’t be laid here breathing, his body aching and weak, but very much alive. He could clearly remember going under, could remember the moment the he had admitted defeat.

_How am I alive?_

    He wasn’t going to get answers like this he realised, trying to coax his eyes open, needing to see for himself. It was a battle, and he had to reach up, hand clumsy and uncoordinated to rub at the salt that had clustered on his eyelashes, knocking it away as best he could, until his eyes managed to creep open. Blue sky met his blurry gaze and he blinked, and blinked again, waiting for the fuzziness to clear a little, content to just lie there and watch the clouds drifting by for a moment, the effort having exhausted him more than he cared to admit.

    Finally, he moved, struggling to push himself upright on trembling arms, blinking as he took in the beach that he was lying on.

He was on land.

He had survived…

 _But how?_ He looked around, half expecting to see his crew gathered around, wondering if somehow, they had pulled off a miracle in the middle of that storm. But there was no one else on the beach, and no sign of _The Deadeye_ as he turned his attention to the sea, drinking in the sight of the waves, even as tried to work out how the hell he could have survived.

    McCree wasn’t aware that he’d closed his eyes again, dozing as exhaustion washed over him, only to wake with a start as he heard splashing nearby, followed by an amused voice that had him bolting upright with wide eyes.

“You’re finally awake.”

    He knew, even before he looked, because there was no way he could ever forget that voice, a lump rising in his throat at having his own words thrown back at him as he found Hanzo sitting where the sea met the sand and staring at him, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Hanzo…” McCree breathed, pinching himself, certain now that he must’ve died and that this was a dream, a vision… but pain blossomed under his metal fingers, and he hissed, yanking his fingers back before freezing. It was real. It was real, and Hanzo was there. _Hanzo…_ the merman was moving, the fish that he had been carrying now held behind his teeth as he carefully pulled himself further up the beach, heading towards McCree with a determined expression.

    McCree didn’t know what to do, what to think, realising in the back of his mind that for Hanzo to have rescued him, he had to have been following the ship. That all those flashes he had thought that he had imagined, might not have been imagined, not sure whether to feel angry or happy at the realisation that Hanzo hadn’t been able to leave him behind either. Finally settling on happy, unable to stop the weak smile that crept onto his face as Hanzo reached him, not recoiling as he reached out to brush his fingers against the merman’s cheek. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

 


End file.
